Cast Love Aside (30 page)

“Not if we separate,” Magnus said. “Not if
two of us continue downstream toward the sea, walking beside the
stream and leaving our traces along the way, while the others go
into the water and travel upstream, with the water washing away
their scent. Braedon and I will mislead Norbard and his dogs –
assuming he bothers to use dogs – while the rest of you head for
the island.”

“Magnus, no!” Lilianne cried.

“We'll double back later,” Magnus said.
“Never fear, I will find you again, Lilianne. In my absence, follow
William's orders. That means you, too, Desmond.”

“By all means, my lord,” Desmond responded,
using the disparaging tone that Lilianne was beginning to dislike
intensely.

“Gilbert,” Magnus said, “do you want to stop
to eat or rest before heading to the island?”

“No,” Gilbert answered. “I'd rather wait
until later. I think you feel the same.”

“I do.” Magnus rested a hand on Gilbert's
shoulder. “You’ve proven to be an excellent guide so far. If you
will show us the direction of the stream, we'll be on our way.”

Lilianne was grateful for Magnus’s
consideration of Gilbert’s need for food and rest, but she wasn’t
at all happy with his plan to split the party in two. However, she
could see the reason in the plan, and she was resolved not to
question every decision Magnus made, as Desmond was doing.

She set off through the trees beside Magnus,
with Gilbert in the lead this time. Because she was a girl, she
hadn't been allowed the same freedom that Gilbert had enjoyed while
their father was still alive, so the woodlands were unfamiliar to
her. When they reached the stream she was surprised by how wide it
was, and how deep it appeared to be. Gilbert's stream looked more
like a river to her, though she could tell by the way a branch
drifted lazily past that the current was sluggish.

“It’ll be easy for you to walk upstream,”
Magnus assured her. He had given his full attention to Gilbert's
description of the meandering course the stream took to the sea,
and of the island where his companions would be awaiting him and
Braedon. “Just be sure to stay well away from the stream bank, so
no one will see you and the dogs can’t pick up your scent.”

“Please be careful,” she begged.

“I will.” He pressed her hand. “Don't
worry.”

“I'll take good care of him,” Braedon
promised her. “Here, take the saddlebags. You'll want the food for
Gilbert.”

They chose a spot where a flat rock overhung
the water. There Magnus helped Lilianne into the stream. Gilbert,
William and Desmond followed, Gilbert pausing to drink his fill.
Then the four of them began walking through the water toward the
island, which Gilbert assured them was out of sight around a bend
in the stream.

Lilianne looked back once, but she couldn't
see Magnus, or Braedon, either. The shadows were deeper among the
trees, with low-hanging branches further obscuring the view.

She judged they waded upstream at least a
mile before reaching their goal. Under William's guidance they
avoided the muddy edges of the island, instead wading half way
around it, until they could climb out of the water using a fallen
tree trunk.

“We don't want to leave any footprints for
Norbard to notice and investigate,” William explained. “Gilbert,
you've chosen our refuge well. We should be safe here.”

They were all uncomfortably wet, and Gilbert
and Desmond were clearly exhausted. Desmond had ceased his annoying
remarks soon after they entered the water, apparently preferring to
divert his strength to the effort needed to trudge upstream. Either
that, Lilianne decided, or he saw no point in continuing his
criticism of Magnus when Magnus wasn't around to hear him.

They settled on the highest point of the
island, where the ground was dry and dead leaves made a soft
cushion for sitting. Lilianne opened the saddlebags.

“I'm glad the weather is so warm,” William
said. “Gilbert, strip off your clothes and wrap my cloak around
you. It'll be drier than your tunic and hose. Desmond, were you
able to keep Magnus's cloak above water? It's too dark under these
trees for me to tell how wet you are.”

“I have no intention of removing my clothes,
so don't ask it of me,” Desmond responded.

“As you please.” William turned his back on
Desmond, to help Gilbert with his tunic.

“Desmond, I can wrap your ribs,” Lilianne
offered in a quiet voice. “From the way you've been holding them, I
think one or two are cracked. It must hurt you to breathe.”

“Wrap them with what?” Desmond asked.

“Magnus has a clean linen undershirt in his
saddlebag,” she said, pulling forth the garment. “I'm sure he won't
mind if I use it for a bandage.”

“He will mind,” Desmond said. A moment later
he said, “Go ahead, then. With a bandage to support my chest, I'll
have both hands free, in case we have to fight.”

Lilianne made short work of Magnus's shirt,
tearing it into wide strips and winding the linen around Desmond's
chest. She tried not to notice how sorely he needed a bath, nor to
see the lice in his hair and beard. But she did remark on the way
he winced when he held his tattered shirt out of her way.

“That's why you don't want to take off your
shirt,” she said. “It hurts to lift your arms, doesn't it?”

“Don't tell William,” he ordered.

“I won't,” she promised, knotting the end of
the bandage securely.

“I'm hungry,” Gilbert said. “I haven't eaten
since yesterday.”

“We have bread and cheese,” Lilianne told
him, drawing their store of food from the saddlebags, “and here is
Braedon's cup. We can use it to dip water from the stream.”

Lilianne ate less than her share, so Gilbert
could have more bread. He washed it down with several cups of
water. No sooner was he finished with his meal than he curled up in
William's cloak and fell asleep.

“It's what he needs most,” Desmond said. “To
eat and sleep in freedom, knowing his sister is close by and his
friends will protect him from recapture.”

He was sitting with his back against a tree,
chewing the last of his bread. Lilianne looked at him, surprised by
his sensitivity to Gilbert's needs.

“But then,” she said softly, “you were aware
of Gilbert’s needs even before you met him in person. I noticed the
scratches on your wrist and fingers from forcing your hand through
the window slit to tie food to Gilbert's rope. Thank you again for
what you did for my brother. I will never forget it.”

“Hark,” William said suddenly, his voice low
and urgent.

Lilianne went perfectly still, listening. She
heard dogs barking in the distance.

“Magnus,” she whispered. “Braedon.”

“They'll be all right,” William said.
“They'll take to the water and stay there until Norbard calls off
his hounds. The dogs aren't coming upstream; they're moving away,
toward the sea. Magnus's ruse has worked.”

“Clever Magnus,” Desmond muttered.

“Why do you dislike your brother so?”
Lilianne cried.

“How can I help but dislike him?” came
Desmond's sardonic response from the leafy shadows. “Magnus always
does what's right and honest. I, on the other hand, am completely
unscrupulous, and have been since birth. Which explains why I am so
valuable as a spy.”

“You aren't so good a spy that you can't be
caught,” William reminded him.

“I was betrayed for money,” Desmond said. “It
wasn't my fault.”

“I know Magnus was recruited to find you,”
Lilianne said when Desmond lapsed into silence. “He has told me
several times that this will be his one and only spying mission,
that he has no desire to continue this kind of work. But what of
you, Desmond? How did you become a spy? And what keeps you spying,
rather than doing something else?”

“I do it for the excitement,” Desmond said,
his cynical laugh reaching her out of the dimness, “for the fun of
being dishonest, for the excuse of lying in a good cause, when
lying is what I do best. For the challenge of matching my wits
against those of another spy.”

“I haven't noticed anything particularly
enjoyable about the business of spying,” William said. “I’ve
undertaken a few missions at Royce's behest, because I am his sworn
man, but I find no pleasure in what I have to do.”

“Obviously, you aren't as immoral as I am,”
Desmond remarked lightly.

Lilianne said nothing more, not wanting to
admit that she understood what Desmond was saying. She, too, had
experienced the excitement of the work, though only for a few
moments while facing down Norbard. She suspected it was possible to
crave more and more of the excitement and the danger, to perform
outrageous feats of bravery in order to attain that excitement,
risking one’s own life and the lives of others to satisfy the
craving. She found the idea deeply disturbing.

“I need more water,” Desmond said. Taking the
only cup, he headed for the stream.

“He's not particularly grateful at being
rescued, is he?” William muttered.

“Perhaps he can't talk about his deepest
feelings,” Lilianne suggested.

“The man is an unrepentant scoundrel,”
William informed her. “Still, according to Royce, Desmond’s kind, a
man with no conscience at all, makes the very best spy.”

“Why would a man without a conscience bestir
himself to share his scanty supply of food with an unknown fellow
prisoner?” Lilianne asked. “Magnus and Desmond don't look much
alike, but surely twins cannot be far apart in the way they view
their fellow men.”

“Don't mention your assumption to Magnus,”
William advised. “He doesn't think Desmond is worth much.”

Lilianne didn't believe that. Whatever
differences had set the brothers at odds and driven Desmond from
Ashendown needed to be resolved. Loving her own brother as she did,
she couldn't bear the thought of twins who professed to dislike
each other, and she wished she could find a way to convince them to
admit to the affection that must still lie in each man's heart.

* * * * *

Magnus and Braedon returned toward morning,
when William was still standing watch while the others slept.
Lilianne was so attuned to Magnus's presence that she wakened the
moment he stepped onto the island.

“What happened?” she whispered softly, not
wanting to disturb Desmond, who would surely begin again to
criticize his brother, thus making matters even worse between
them.

“We walked all the way to the beach,” Magnus
said, “and went several feet into the surf, to make certain
Norbard's hounds would follow the scent to the water's edge.”

“Let’s hope Norbard assumes we were picked up
by a boat,” Braedon added. “We came to the island by walking in the
stream all the way. With any luck, Norbard has given up the
search.”

“You must be hungry,” Lilianne said.

“And wet,” Magnus noted, pulling his tunic
over his head. “I have a dry shirt in my saddlebag.”

“I'm sorry,” Lilianne told him. “I used it to
bandage Desmond's ribs.”

“Lovely.” Magnus expelled a long breath.

“Don't grudge it to him,” she said. “The
guards beat him. He was in sore need of help.”

“I know.”

“The air is warm. Your tunic will dry soon if
you spread it on a bush.”

“Is there any food left? Or did Desmond eat
it all?”

“We have plenty of bread, and we saved some
cheese for you.” Lilianne reached for Braedon's saddlebag, but
Braedon was there before her, pulling out the remains of the loaf
originally meant for Desmond's meal in his cell. Braedon tore off a
chunk of bread and handed the rest to Magnus, then went to sit with
William.

“I do wish you and your brother wouldn't
quarrel all the time,” Lilianne said.

“Tell Desmond that.” Magnus pulled off his
share of the bread and tucked the last piece back in the saddlebag.
When he folded his long legs and sat, Lilianne joined him.

“Why do you disagree?” she asked.

“Desmond is the most thoughtless, feckless
person I've ever known,” Magnus said. “He spent his childhood
taking foolish risks and constantly getting into trouble, as if
such false bravery could win our father's love. But our father
never loved anyone, least of all his sons.”

“Desmond isn't all bad. He denied himself
food for Gilbert's sake.” She didn’t mention that she had caught a
glimpse of the risk-taking excitement-seeker beneath Desmond’s cool
surface, or that she had recognized something similar in
herself.

Magnus finished chewing his bread and put his
arm around her shoulders.

“Since I have neither a clean shirt nor a
blanket to warm me,” he whispered, “I'll keep you near for
warmth.”

“Yes, please.” She snuggled closer. Magnus's
lips were on her forehead, and then her cheek. She turned her head
to meet his lips with her own. His kiss generated enough heat to
warm her for the rest of the night. She fell asleep with her head
on his shoulder.

“Don't imagine that Norbard will stop hunting
for us,” Desmond said. “He knows what Erland will do to him if he
lets either Gilbert or me escape.”

A short distance away William lay sleeping
after his long night of standing watch. The others were gathered
together to eat a morning meal of stale bread and stream water. To
Lilianne's delight, Gilbert had awakened in cheerful spirits. He
appeared to be fully recovered from his ordeal in the tower room
and from the rigors of the previous day. His only complaint was
that he longed for a few slices of cold roast beef.

Lilianne wasn't so confident of Desmond's
good health. Unlike Gilbert, he lacked the resilience of youth.
After months without a decent meal, Magnus's brother was
frighteningly thin, his eyes were sunken and shadowed, and save for
his bruises and a feverish spot of red on each cheek, his face was
devoid of color. Several times since waking Desmond had walked the
short distance to the stream to scoop water into both hands to
drink, or to splash on his face.